


Memorial Demons

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: Memorial Day, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair has trouble dealing with both his recovery from a gunshot wound and with his new relationship with Jim.<br/>This story is a sequel to Memorial Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorial Demons

## Memorial Demons

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Title: Memorial Demons  
Author: Grey  
Email address: Grey853@aol.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: J/B  
Status: New, complete  
Date: May 25, 1998  
Archive: Yes to both  
Archive email: Grey853@aol.com 

Series/Sequel: This is the sequel to Memorial Day. 

Other website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, but I'm borrowing. 

Notes and warnings: This story takes place about 10 days after the story "Memorial Day". This story can stand alone, but it would make more sense coupled with the first part. This one is also told from Blair's POV rather than Jim's. 

Summary: This is a sequel to "Memorial Day". Blair has trouble dealing with both his recovery and his new relationship with Jim. 

Memorial Demons  
by Grey 

Blair Sandburg struggled not to breath so hard as he walked the short distance between the truck and the loft, but failed miserably. "Come on, Chief, take it easy. We're not running a race here." 

"I know that, Jim. I'm fine." The words wheezed between whitened lips. It hurt to move and breathing spiked his chest with red hot slivers. 

"Sure you are. Let's get you up and settled before you get too well to walk." 

"Man, you are so not funny." Blair swatted away the helpful hand, resentful that he even needed help. 

Standing back, sucking in his jaw with forced patience, Jim sighed. "Look. I know you hate this shit. I hate it, too, but right now you need to be careful. You just got out of the hospital for godsakes." 

"Tell me something new, Jim." Blair braced himself against the wall of the inside lobby as they waited for the elevator. He tried to take shallow breaths to avoid the sharp reminders of his weakened condition. "I know you're trying to help, but just back off a little, okay? You've been hovering non-stop all week. Just give me a little space." 

The elevator doors opened just as Jim started to argue. Holding the door for his friend, he decided to try a different approach. "Okay, granted I've been a little intense, but I do believe the situation warranted it." 

Blair got in the elevator, again moving carefully to avoid any jarring. "Maybe. I'm not really complaining. Let's just get inside, man." 

"Sure." As Jim pushed the button, Blair watched. The worry from the last few days etched themselves on his friend's face. Dark circles hollowed out the normally icy blue eyes while grey lines inked his cheeks. He hated being the cause of those shadows, the reason for the pain. 

"I'm sorry, man. Didn't mean to jump down your throat. I'm just out of it, I guess." 

"No problem, Sandburg. Getting shot makes a person pretty pissy sometimes." 

"Pissy, huh? Man, like you have room to talk." Quick anger tensed his already tired gut. Jim's jaw twitched, but his tongue remained still. The elevator stopped and both men moved quietly into the loft. For the first time in their new relationship, they were alone in their shared home. Blair shivered at the realization that Jim loved him. It iced his skin with fear, a dread of failure tempered with terror of success. God, he was a mess. 

Turning, Jim touched his shoulder lightly as he frowned. "Chief, you okay? You look really pale." 

"Getting shot does that, Jim." Blair stepped to the couch and eased himself down, the simple change broadcasting pain up through his back. "Shit." 

"What?" Jim sat beside him before he could take another breath. 

"Nothing. I'm just not used to having to be so careful. Don't worry, Jim. I'm okay. Really." 

"Yeah?" Jim nodded, watching, his eyes not quite focused. 

"Stop that." Blair touched Jim's cheek, stroking lightly, savoring the richness of whiskers against open palm. Tracing his fingers along the jaw line, Jim's eyes met his. 

"Stop what, Chief?" 

"You know what. You're monitoring my vital signs. Don't think I don't know what you're doing when you get that look." Tenderly he reached up and pushed back the tiny tuff of hair spiking just above Jim's left ear. "Don't forget, Jim, I'm still your guide." 

"Like I'd ever forget." Smiling, Jim took Blair's hand and moved it to his lips, kissing it and then nibbling a finger. The hot wet slickness against his skin sent Blair's heart speeding. 

"Jesus, Jim, that feels great." And it did. All along his arm, nervous energy fired and tingled to his brain, his groin tightening to spread the word down his thighs into his shaky legs. 

Letting his head fall back to rest on the couch, Blair relished a few more kisses before Jim lay his hand back in his lap. The slightest brush of cheek against his, opened his eyes again. "Man, did I ever mention how I love it when you do that?" 

"Once or twice." The smug smile and a quick flick of tongue to his ear brought on a fiery blush. 

"Jim, I love you, man." 

"I love you, too." Jim rested his head next to Blair's, lying there quiet and content. 

Ignoring the persistent throb from his lower right side, Blair closed his eyes again, drinking in the rich scent of the man beside him. He enjoyed the profoundly unique clean scent, the slight whiff of sweat and oil that smelled like Jim. It made him suddenly secure and sleepy. An easy hand nudged him. "Come on, Chief. Let's get you up to bed." 

Alarms rang with a vengeance. "Uh, Jim, I really don't want to be a wimp here, but those stairs are too much right now. Why don't I just stay downstairs until I feel better?" 

"Whatever you want, Chief. No problem." He said the words, but Blair cringed at the tone of hurt lacing each word. Even so, he couldn't change it. He couldn't deal with being with Jim until he could deal with being with himself after almost dying. 

"Thanks, Jim." Anxiety pranced and did a war dance, chanting like crazy for victory inside his head. 

* * *

Whimpers and screams mixed to rattle the inside of his dreams. His eyes refused to stay completely open as a rainbow of flashes muted to flares of white. Thick rust coated his throat while his head pounded with an angry, hard-driving beat. Someone held down his legs, hammered his back while a winter wash erased the sun's heat from his skin. Spinning swirled from his head to his stomach and sickening blackness swallowed a sour stench bubbling up right past his heart. 

"Come on, Chief. That's it. Wake up for me, baby." The urgency of the plea finally settled to awareness. Jim's voice terrorized his ears. 

His moaning grew from deep in his chest. "Jesus, man. What's going on?" Every muscle ached and stretched from over exertion. Waking only made him more tired. 

"You were having a screamfest, Chief. I couldn't get you to wake up." 

Embarrassed by his own trembling, Blair mustered his strength and pulled back enough to shift out of Jim's arms. "I'm okay, Jim. Just a dream." 

Sitting up brought on a stabbing agony shooting up his back. "Shit." Trying not to aggravate it further by breathing did no good. Every swallow of air hurt like swimming in fire. No change of position brought any relief, so he gave up and lay back down, his head and back only slightly elevated. 

"Blair, you're not okay. You've got another fever. I need to look at your wound to see if it's infected." 

"No, man. In the morning, not now. I'm just too tired. Besides, I've got the antibiotics they gave me." 

Jim ran a nervous hand through his hair as he spoke. "Yeah, I know, but you might need to go back to the hospital. We can't take any chances. They said to watch for a fever." 

Reaching out a careful hand, Blair touched his friend's arm. "I just had a bad dream, Jim. I'm okay. It's going to take time. It's just a little pain, man. It'll get better." 

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Jim stared into his guide's deep blue eyes. "I still don't understand why you won't take anything for it. It doesn't have to knock you out, just take the edge off. I mean, for godsakes, Chief, a fucking bullet cut a hole right through your body. There's no shame in trying not to hurt while you heal." 

Feeling a warm sympathy at his friend's anger, Blair shook his head. "I know you hate it when I hurt, man. It's not much fun for me either, but I hate feeling out of it. The first week in the hospital is an absolute blur because I was so doped up. I hate that. I barely remember waking up and finding you crashed out. I don't like not having a clear memory of you telling me you love me, man." 

Face softening, Jim leaned in closer. "Then let me say it again and again, babe. I love you, Blair Sandburg. Clear enough?" The smile illuminated Jim's whole face, while the words thawed the young man's wary heart a little bit more. 

"Yeah, man, very clear. I love you, too." 

"Good, now why don't you take some of your medicine so you can sleep?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jim braced himself with one arm and rubbed Blair's shoulder gently with the other. 

"I told you, Jim. I don't want it. I'll take the antibiotics because I have to. The other, well, I just don't like the way it numbs everything." 

"That's what it's supposed to do, Chief. It numbs the pain so you can heal without having to suffer so much. What's wrong with that?" 

"It scares me, Jim." The whispered words wobbled unsteady between them. 

"Scares you? I don't understand. Why would not suffering scare you?" 

"Don't get me wrong, man, I hate hurting as much as the next guy, but, you don't get it. I can't handle the stuff that comes with the numbness." 

"What stuff?" 

"It's hard to explain." 

Jim frowned and persisted. "Don't give me that shit, Sandburg. You live for explanation. Now, tell me the real reason you'd rather live with the pain than take a pill." 

"Okay, don't get mad, man." 

"I'm not mad, Chief, just frustrated. You've been fighting practically everything anybody's done to help you since you woke up. You don't want to take the medicine. You don't want my help or to even let me make you more comfortable. Hell, sometimes I think you don't even want me around. What's going on?" 

An wave of fatigue fogged over the earlier clarity, but Blair couldn't let himself slide just yet. "Jim, listen, it's not you, man. It's me. I hate being dependent. It's just really hard, you know. Everybody seems to think I like letting you take care of me, but I don't. Even when I was a kid, Naomi would get really pissed with me every time I got sick." 

A quick smile crossed Jim's lips. "I can see that, Chief. She does like to mother you something awful." 

"And you don't? Look, I just hate taking stuff that makes my mind foggy. It keeps me from being able to think right. I don't like not being able to control my feelings." 

"Control, Chief? I thought that was the biggie in my life?" 

"Yeah, well, I don't label and color-code everything in my head, man, but it's the same thing. You like to control the externals as well as what you feel. I just care about what happens inside my head. When I take painkillers, everything gets kind of crazy." 

"Chief, I hate to break it to you, hon, but you're really kind of crazy even when you're completely drug-free." 

"Eccentric, Jim. A free-spirit, a person who likes to try new things. That's not crazy." 

"If you say so, Chief. In the meantime, how about trying the sleeping thing again?" 

The drowsiness weighed down his body as he settled back. Despite the heavy spread of exhaustion, uneasiness vibrated up his arms. "Sure, man." 

"You sure you're okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a little dream-shy." 

"Yeah? So, do you remember what caused you to scream earlier?" 

"The shooting, I guess. I mean, I don't remember a lot of it. I remember the kids crying and Cindy yelling. It all happened so fast, you know. I heard the gun shots, but I didn't really feel any pain at first. Megan jumped the guy. Then everything started getting strange." 

"Strange how?" 

"It was like someone turned off a switch, man. My body wouldn't work. Just everything when cold and I felt like I needed to throw up, but I couldn't because I was too busy falling into this really deep, dark hole. Man, it wasn't like anything I've ever felt before." 

"And hopefully, you'll never feel it again." 

"I hear that. But, then I remember you being there. I could hear your voice, but I couldn't feel anything. I was totally numb." 

Jim nodded. "Numb? Could that be why you don't want to take the pain pills?" 

"Maybe. I don't know. I just know that ever since it happened, I keep getting ambushed by all these mixed up pictures in my head." 

"It's called trauma, Chief. We all deal with it differently, but you can expect this isn't going to go away real soon. Don't expect so much of yourself just yet. Hell, it's only been ten days." 

"Only ten days? It feels like forever." His tongue and lips could barely find the other. "Man, I'm sorry, but I am like so wasted." "It's okay, babe. I'll just sit here for awhile if that's okay?" 

"Sure, man." He didn't say that he was too proud to beg. The idea of Jim Ellison watching him sleep made drifting so much easier. A damn shame he couldn't ward off the nasty dreams that kept smashing the guide guy any which way they could. With a slight shiver he pulled up the covers and let the soothing stroke of Jim's hand on his chest lead him into a folding grey, an emotional wasteland filled with cave-dwelling monsters just itching to come out and play. 

* * *

Awakening brought on another round of questions, such as when had he aged a hundred years and who put that damn machete through his back? Carefully, Blair tested the torture of the light by slitting open only one eye. The dimness and the distant rumble of thunder allowed him to see that storms once again ruled in Cascade. 

"Hey, Chief. I see you're finally awake. Feel up to an algae shake?" 

Raising up the edges of his pillow, Blair groaned into the soft fabric. He wondered how much strength it would take to smother himself into oblivion. A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up into Jim's worried stare. "I'm okay. Just give me a minute to get my bearings here." 

"Sure. You need help to get to the bathroom?" 

"Jim, please." The whining quality of his own voice surprised him, so he adjusted it to a more serious tone. "Look, I know you mean well. You want to help. I get that and I appreciate it. But, just give me some space here, man." 

"Why do you have to make everything so difficult, Chief?" Not waiting for an answer, he held up a hand. "Never mind. Look, you take your time and do what you want. I'll be here." His face softened and his naturally husky voice became a whisper. "Just don't be too proud to call if you need me, Blair. I'm here." 

Squeezing his eyes shut to block off the sting, Blair nodded. "I know that, Jim. I'm sorry." 

The sag of the mattress came with a warm hand touching his cheek, a thumb along the edge of his jaw. "No need to be sorry, babe. I know this is really hard for you. I'm not exactly sure what's going on with you. I'm not even sure you know yourself." 

"Jim..." 

"No, it's all right. You'll figure it out and when you do, then you can let me in on it. Until then, I'll just be patient. Just don't let yourself suffer anymore than you have to. That's something I have a hard time dealing with, Chief." 

"I know. I don't want to ever hurt you." Lying there, Jim rubbing his bearded face warmed him all over. He loved the delicate touch of such a large hand, a hand that could crush away his life or bless him with eternal grace. After a few more moments of silence, his body signaled him to remember to get up and take care of the more mundane business it took to stay alive. 

Carefully he tried to sit up only to find an unexpected twist through his midsection. Catching his breath, he stopped moving, mentally warding off the waves of hot pain storming through his body. 

"Blair?" 

"Man, I think I'm going to need your help whether I like it or not. I can't believe this hurts so much." 

"You were shot, Chief. The bullet traveled in through your right side passing through muscles, nicking your intestines and veins, and then blasting a two-inch hole in your back. You needed 6 pints of blood and got an infection. It's going to hurt like a son of a bitch until all that heals." 

"Fuck. No wonder I feel like shit." Blair tried to smile to reduce the drama in the icy eyes fixed on his. He failed. 

"There's nothing to joke about here, Chief. You almost died. I have to tell you, I've never been so fucking scared in my life. Peru, covert ops, all the jobs as a cop, nothing prepared me for watching you lie there and practically bleed to death before my eyes. You were dying and there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do." The anguish coated every word with living pain, a wretchedness that sucked away the very air. 

Gripping his friend's hand, Blair intertwined their fingers. "I'm sorry, Jim. I just need to deal with this, too. I'm not sure what to do about all these feelings I'm having." 

"Feelings? You mean feeling scared?" Jim squeezed his hand a little harder. 

"Yeah, but other feelings, too. Being with you now is different. I mean, I love you, but we've never admitted that before. It's all new, but it's also all mixed up with this dread I have about the shooting. I keep wondering if you'd have said anything if it hadn't happened." 

"Maybe not right away. I have a tendency to put important things off. You know that. But that doesn't matter, because now we know. I don't want to scare you with that, but you have to know I'd do anything to make this work. I can't live without you, Chief." 

"Come on, Jim. Enough of that kind of talk." 

"What talk? That I need you? It's not just talk. It's the truth." 

"Man, that's like so intense. I just need a little time to understand all this, Jim. Like I said, it's not you, it's me. All this really freaks me out, you know." 

"I can see that. I wish it weren't so hard on you, but we'll talk about all this later. Right now, I need to get you up. Here, let me support your back before you sit up." 

Blair allowed Jim to basically lift him out of bed. As soon as the dizziness stopped, he let the older man help him into the bathroom. Bracing himself on the sink he stood there amazed at how weak he still felt, his legs shaking at holding just his own weight. Despite that he waved his friend away. "I think I can handle it from here, man." 

Reluctantly, Jim agreed. "Okay, but don't lock the door. And, Chief, I swear you'd better not pass out in here." 

"I'll do my best." Closing the door, Blair turned to relieving himself and then washing his hands. After a few moments he carefully lifted his shirt to examine the damage. An unfamiliar shaved chest presented itself to the mirror. A light returning fuzz itched, but did nothing to convince him that the image in the mirror belonged to him. The bandage wrapping his abdomen needed changing. He'd let Jim do that. Maybe he could see the wound later, but right at that moment he pretended that some other guy, some hairless person, had the problem, not him. 

Pulling down his shirt once again, he took a shallow breath. The doctor warned him to breath deeply despite the pain, to breathe and cough to avoid the threat of post-operative pneumonia, but that danger was over. Now, he just wanted to go easy with the air. No need to taunt his lungs anymore than necessary. Holding onto the wall, he brushed back his wild hair from his face, too tired to even to care what happened next. His brain muttered and wouldn't speak up. Damn, he just needed to sleep. Before he could open the door and head back to bed, the knock from the other side broke his tenuous concentration. 

"Hey, Chief. You okay?" 

"Sure, Jim. I'll be out in a minute." Blair wondered how many pills it would take to get a sentinel in mother hen mode off his back. Then he decided, he'd better not even try it. Pissed off mode would be even more scary, almost as scary as a sentinel in love with an unworthy Chief. 

* * *

Freshly bandaged and hand-washed, Blair lay in a cocoon of blankets in a makeshift bed on the sofa. Too tired to focus on reading, he just gazed out the window at the dreary day draping the landscape. Somehow he thought it soothing with no glare of sunshine to spoil his mood. 

"Simon's here." Jim interrupted his musings. "I can smell his cigar." 

"Yeah? Why's he here? Shouldn't he be working? Come to think of it, shouldn't you be working, too?" 

The knock delayed Jim's answer as he opened the door. "Come on in, Simon." 

The captain entered, his cigar extinguished. Touched by the thoughtful courtesy, Blair raised a hand. "Hey, man. Thanks for not smoking. My stomach's been on the fritz lately." 

"Yeah, I heard that." 

As the older man moved into the apartment, Jim picked up his keys. A ridiculous panic gripped him. "Hey, where you going, Jim?" 

"I need to go down and fill out some reports with Conner. I won't be gone long." 

Anger came with awareness. "Oh, I get it. Simon's here to baby-sit. Man, this is so not necessary. I can take care of myself." He threw his cover back and started to get up to prove his point. 

Jim rushed to his side to block his moving. "Hold up there, Chief. Don't do anything stupid." 

"So, now I'm stupid on top of being helpless? Jesus, Jim give me some fucking credit here." 

Putting a patient hand on his trembling shoulder, Jim's voice took on an understanding, but firm tone. "Look, you may think you don't need anybody, but it's too soon to be alone here, Chief. Now, I know you're pissed off, but bear with me. I have to leave and I can't do that if I have to worry about you while I'm gone. Simon's here because he wants to be. Would you prefer I get a home-care nurse or something, because those are the choices." 

Still miffed, but reluctantly seeing his friend's point, Blair shrugged. "I guess it's okay. It's just, well, you know how I hate this." 

"I know, Chief. You've made that perfectly clear." Frustration coated each word. 

Biting his lip, Blair crossed his arms and settled back against the pillow. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his own reaction. "I'm sorry, man." Forcing a smile, he turned to Simon. "Hey, so you planning to play nurse or what?" 

"Or what, Sandburg. Don't expect any special treatment just because you're recovering. I can chew your ass anywhere." 

"I hear that." 

Jim smiled at the mild banter. "I should be back in an hour or so. He's supposed to take his antibiotic in half an hour." 

"Sure, Jim. Don't worry. Sandburg and I can handle things for a little bit. Go make nice with Conner. She's been doing something interesting with your files. I think you'll be amused." The sly smile made Jim head out the door on a sprint. 

"Funny, Simon. Wish I could do that." 

"What? Play with his head? It's not so hard, especially when he's distracted. Besides, I think you've pretty much got dibs on his heart. Don't get greedy." 

Shocked, his face burning, Blair met the Captain's piercing black eyes. "What?" 

"Don't play like you don't know what I'm talking about, Blair. Jim, made it pretty obvious in the hospital how he feels about you. Frankly, I'm kind of glad he's finally found somebody. You've been good for him." 

"Yeah, right. Look, Simon, I appreciate your support and all, but Jim and I, well, we haven't exactly settled much between us yet. We've talked, but, frankly, I'm not really ready to say anything to anybody else yet." 

"Okay. I can understand that. Too much, too fast." 

"Something like that." 

Simon sat in the chair across from the sofa, studying the pale man wrapped in a pile of blankets despite the warm air in the room. "So, how are you doing really, Sandburg?" 

"Okay, I guess. Jim's driving me crazy though. He's in major hover mode, man. I'm kind of glad you showed up when you did. He needed the break." 

Simon nodded. "Yeah, he's been glued to your side ever since the shooting. Couldn't make him leave even after they released him from the hospital." 

Blair turned full attention on the man across from him. "What? Released him from the hospital when?" 

"Didn't he tell you?" 

"Tell me what? What the hell are you talking about, Simon?" 

Shifting uncomfortably as a child forced to tell a secret, Simon finally leaned forward. "I don't know why I'd be surprised he'd keep it to himself. Damn fool. He should tell you himself about why he thinks it happened, but I'll tell you what I saw." 

"Just tell me, man." 

"After you were shot, Jim was right there trying to stop the bleeding. You went into shock and your heart stopped. As soon as we got it beating again, Jim zoned big time. I've never seen anything like it. We had to transport him at the same time we transported you. They had him admitted thinking it might have been shock or some kind of seizure." 

"Damn him." Blair slammed a fist into the side of the sofa. "Why didn't he tell me? What happened with the neurological tests?" 

"Nothing. Everything appeared normal even when he was totally out of it. But no matter what anybody did, he didn't wake up until you were out of surgery and stable." 

"Really?" The full impact of what Simon suggested hollowed out his breath. "Man, this is like really weird. You're saying he zoned on me?" 

"That's what it looked like. When he finally did wake up, he refused to leave you." His voice lowered into a deeper bass. "He loves you, man. I've rarely seen anybody more dedicated to another person. And Jim, well, he doesn't commit lightly. This is the real deal." 

Embarrassed and confused by his own jumble of emotions, Blair leaned back into a sudden dizziness. "I know he loves me, Simon. I don't understand why, but he does." 

"What? What do you mean you don't understand why?" 

"Well, you know. Jim's so great, so special. I mean, I know he needs me to help him with his senses and I'm his friend, but this love thing has me baffled. I've always loved him, but now it's like he's suddenly discovered somebody different. He's in love with this image of me, not who I really am." 

Simon shook his head in total bewilderment. Taking a deep breath to avoid hammering some common sense into the young man before him, he simply asked, "And who are you really, Blair?" 

"You know." 

"No, tell me. I'm really interested to figure out what it is that you think Jim is overlooking when he sees the man he loves." 

Uneasy with the directness of the question, Blair carefully propped himself back against the armrest. "Look, Simon, let's face it, I'm different from you and the other guys Jim hangs with. If it weren't for this sentinel thing, I wouldn't even be in his life." 

"You'll get no argument about being different, Sandburg, but that's not necessarily a bad thing when it comes to Jim. You obviously have something he needs. As for being in his life, you're there because he wants you to be. Now, you didn't answer the question. What is it that you think Jim is missing?" 

"I'm not a cop, Simon." 

"So I keep reminding you. So what?" 

"I don't think or act like a cop. I'm not part of the group, Jim's social order." 

"You're not a cop, that's true, but you're wrong about not being part of the group. Even before this thing happened with Geary at the park, you belonged with us. Granted, you're there because of your work with Jim, but you've given contributions far beyond that." 

"Come on, Simon. I'm tolerated, but it's not the same." 

"Okay. We'll come back to that later. Tell me what else poor misguided Jim is missing when he looks at you." 

"Come on, Simon, stop it." 

"No, I want to know. I'm really curious to figure out what's going on. Tell me." 

"Well, look at me." 

"Yeah, I'm looking. You look like shit, but that's from the shooting. You'll be back to your cute self soon enough." 

Blair shook his head, his curls fluffing up even more wildly. "Simon, Jim's perfect." 

"Now who's delusional?" Simon smiled at the words. 

"He is. Look at him. He's the archetype for the modern hero." 

"Shit, Sandburg. You've got it so bad it hurts to look at you." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Sure, Jim's a handsome man, but he's anything but perfect. And don't you dare tell him I said this." 

"What?" 

"He's going bald if you hadn't noticed, and he's older than you. He's also got a temper and is as irascible as hell, a hardass from the word go. He's so anal and possessive, I'm surprised he trusted me alone with you. It's only because of you that's he's learned any social skills at all. Perfect. Not hardly." 

"You just don't see it, because....." 

"Because I'm not in love with him?" 

"I didn't mean that." 

"I should hope not. I do love him. I consider him one of my best friends, if not the best. I also consider you a friend, too." 

Shyly, Blair looked away. "Thanks, man. I appreciate that." 

Simon stood up and paced back and forth in the room. Finally he stood in the center of the loft, hands on his hips. "Damn, no wonder Jim's been so frustrated lately if this is what he's up against." 

Blair shrank back into the covers. "What?" 

"How the hell did you get all these insecurities?" 

"They're facts, Simon." 

Simon stepped closer and sat at the end of the sofa at Blair's feet. "No they're not, Blair. You're talking to a guy who deals with facts every day. I recognize them when I see them. So far, all I can see is a guy who's scared shitless of being loved and returning it. Now, I'm a captain, not a therapist, but if I had to make a suggestion, I'd tell you to be honest about why you're so scared." 

"You're right, Simon. You're not a therapist." 

"No, but I'm a pretty good judge of character. I know Jim loves you. I think you love him, too, and for whatever reason, you're scared as hell because of it. You need to be fair to both yourself and Jim. Figure out why and talk to him about it." 

"You don't understand, man. I'm going to end up hurting him." 

"You'd hurt him worse if you didn't at least try." 

A general malaise swelled up in his bones as Blair settled back, trying to block out the rightness of the words. Feeling his energy fade into the air around him, he managed to simply whisper. "I just don't want to hurt him, man." 

Simon breathy voice answered from a sinking distance. "Then don't." 

* * *

"When's he going to wake up, Mama?" The high-pitched female voice spoke right into his ear. Reaching up, Blair tried to brush away the sound, but found instead a tiny hand playing with his hair. 

"Get away from there, Cathy. Let him sleep. He's still sick." 

"But, Mama, I want to talk to Blair." The little voice thickened and through his barely open eyes he could see the lower lip sticking out in a wickedly stubborn pout. 

"Hey, Cathy. I'm awake." The croaking of his words must have surprised her because her tiny hand pulled away. 

"Look, Mama, he's talking." 

"I see that, honey. How are you feeling, Blair?" 

The question spanned from the other side of the room. Looking over, he saw Cindy sitting in one of the kitchen chairs holding her little boy Tommy. Jim stood in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee, his vision totally focused on him. 

"I'm fine. Really." 

Working against the aching resistance, Blair pushed himself up, the hitching of his breath the only clue to his trouble. Jim traveled so fast, he saw only the blur. Supporting hands helped him position himself against the back of the couch. "Thanks, man." 

"No problem, Chief. Cindy and the kids just got here as Simon was leaving." 

"Right." Blair turned his attention to little Cathy sitting on the coffee table, her thumb stuck in her mouth. "Hey, little girl, I'm glad you came to see me." 

"Yeah? Mama said you weren't feeling good. I wanted to come sooner, but she said we had to wait. Are you still sick?" 

"A little, but I'm better." 

Cindy interrupted. "They wouldn't let me bring her to the hospital, Blair. She's been talking about you all the time." 

"Yeah?" 

"Blair, you stopped Kenny from hurting Mama. He was a bad man." The simple statement chilled the whole room. 

"Cathy, honey, Blair probably doesn't want to talk about that right now." 

Raising a stilling hand, Blair turned his attention to the little girl. "It's okay. I don't mind. Listen, Cathy, Kenny was wrong to scare you like he did." 

"He scared Mama, too. I'm glad you and that lady stopped him. I wish you weren't sick though. I want you to tell me some more stories." 

"I can do that, just not right now. When I get better, I'll tell you all kinds of stories." 

"You will?" The delight played in her childish voice like music. 

"Yeah." The little girl came over and crawled up on the edge of the couch. She took Blair's hand and kissed it. 

"Okay." Satisfied with the promise, she turned back to her mother. "Mama, Blair's sick. Can we read him some stories until he gets better?" 

"Sure, baby. We'll go get some really good books and come back later after he's had some more sleep. Okay?" 

"Okay." Satisfied, she rubbed Blair's hand again and went to stand by her mother. 

Cindy stood up and spoke directly to Blair, her eyes red and swollen. "Blair, I have to thank you. I don't know what I can ever do to repay you." 

"You can go get counseling." Shocked, she turned around, shifting the bundle in her arms to a more stable position. "Cindy, find out why you keep hooking up with guys like Kenny. You deserve better. Cathy and Tommy deserve better." 

Her lips trembled, and she used a free hand to wipe her cheek. She nodded, her eyes bright from her own version of fear. "Come on, honey. Let's go find some books to read to Blair later on." 

As mother and daughter linked hands, little Cathy waved goodbye. "I'm going to make you lots of pretty pictures, too. They'll make you get better faster. Bye, Blair. Bye, Jim." 

"Bye, Cathy." 

As Jim closed the door behind them, Blair sank down exhausted into the seat. Taking a deep breath, he complained. "Man, how can I be so tired when I just woke up?" 

"Being so smart can be draining, Chief." Heading back to the kitchen, Jim returned with a glass of water and some pills. "Here. It's time for another round of modern miracles." 

"Funny, man." Taking the medicine, Blair swallowed several times to make the capsules disappear. "So, how'd it go with Conner? Hope she didn't do anything too novel with your files." 

"I think Simon was just trying to get me going. Actually she's pretty good at being a cop. Of course, I'll deny it if you tell her that." 

Blair shook his head. "Why would you want to deny it?" 

"I don't know. Maybe the same reason you hate admitting how you feel. Insecurity?" 

Handing the glass back to Jim, Blair fought against the crush of anger rushing through his lungs. "Man, you talked to Simon." 

Jim locked eyes with his guide. "Not about you, no. Why? What would he have told me that I don't already know?" 

"Jim, come on, man. I don't want to fight." 

"Neither do I, Chief." The long quiet between them ended when Jim sat down beside him and he whispered, "Why do I scare you so much, Blair?" 

The shivers came unexpectantly as the young man tried to battle his own demons. He needed to find the right words that would make any kind of sense. Snatching from the darkest corners, he tried dragging them into the light. "It's not you that I'm afraid of, Jim. It's me." 

"But why? And why now?" 

"Jim, listen, it's really not you, man. You know my history with women." 

Frowning, Jim nodded. "Yeah, table legs." 

"Yeah, well, mostly, except for Maya. And that doesn't scare you? After you've seen the way I handle commitment, it doesn't scare the shit out of you that I might just do something really stupid?" 

"Blair, you've been with me for almost three years now. I've never met a more loyal person. You've been there whenever I needed you. I would think that my admitting that I love you would make it easier, not harder. I just don't get it." The strain in his voice tangled the words around the air, tripping and falling off balance into the space between them. 

"I love you, Jim, and I don't want to hurt you like I've hurt just about every person I've ever been with. I don't know if I can be what you want me to be. You're just so really intense that I'm afraid I'll never be able to satisfy you. Like after you read my introduction, man, you were so disappointed in me. It hurt so much to think that you got that pain because of something I did." 

Jim reached over and took Blair's hand. Shaking his head, his voice thickened into a husky growl. "You don't get it, Chief. You really don't. Sure that hurt, but it would hurt worse if I ever lost you. I know we have some problems, but they're not all in your lap. I'm not exactly the easiest guy to be around. I have a real issue with trust." 

"I know that, Jim. I mean, based on your history, that's to be expected." 

"I know, but it doesn't mean I have to take it out on you. I do trust you, Chief, with my life. You need to trust yourself." 

"It's hard, man. I do a lot of stupid stuff sometimes." 

"Why is that, Chief? I mean, you're the smartest man I've ever met, and yet you sabotage yourself all the time. How come?" 

"I don't know, man. Maybe it's a self-destructive gene thing." 

"Maybe you could get a grant to study it, Chief. In the meantime, I think I'll risk it." 

"I always knew you were brave." 

"I can also be a bit controlling." 

Blair finally smiled a little at that and wiggled his fingers wrapped in the larger man's hand. "Just a bit, but mostly I don't mind." 

"I'm willing to work on it." He rubbed the fingers lightly, stroking gently up Blair's arm. "You could add it to the list of guide things that you do or something." 

"Sure, I can do that." The warming sensation of his sentinel's tender touches soothed him. His voice sounded all stretched out and mushy. 

"And I need you to understand that loving someone so completely is not something I just jump into either. If that scares you, I'm sorry, but it was more scary for me thinking I might never have a chance to tell you." 

Shyly, Blair confessed, "I'm glad you told me, Jim. I really am." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah." 

Jim scooted closer. "I don't want to scare you, but would you mind if I just held you for little while, Chief? I can't explain why, but I'm just hungry to be with you. It's like I can't touch you enough. I need to convince my body that you're still here, that I didn't lose you." 

"Touchie-feelie? Yeah, that makes sense." Blushing a little, allowing himself to relax before he answered, he nodded, "Okay." 

Blair shifted into Jim's embrace, careful not to pull at his bandages. Oddly the pain that plagued him most of the day dulled to almost nothing as he leaned his back against the larger man's chest. Arms wrapped around his middle, mindful not to hold too hard. The slow even breathing of satisfaction buzzed lightly in his ear. His sentinel's whole body radiated a glorious heat, soothing the muscles into a mellow comfort. The rightness of the fit overwhelmed him, the stinging of his eyes proof of his own surprise. 

"What's wrong, Chief?" 

"Nothing, man. Nothing at all." 

Drifting there in the protective arms of the man he loved more than life, Blair dozed, letting the swarm of images sweep him into a jungle rescue. Hope arrived in sentinel flesh, protecting him from the lurking warrior fighting to defend his own despair. When strength returned, he'd battle that demon who poisoned and hacked away at his self-image. Until then, Jim Ellison had his back and he was down with that. 

The End 


End file.
